Go Gently, Sweet Sanity
by Fairy.Kai
Summary: “Rot my heart, sweet delight,” she whispered into the nearing darkness, thinking of nothing but him. “Fade away, til nothing’s bright.” Rose/ Scorpius
1. Sequins and Horrible Quidditch Matches

**Go Gently, Sweet Sanity**

**1. Sequins and Horrible Quidditch Matches**

Rose Weasley was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry. She had been known to lash out at random people, no matter who they were or what house they were in. It was lucky that she was usually such a calm person. It was unfortunate, then, that today she was in a foul mood.

"Hey Weasley!" yelled some stupid, _stupid_ Hufflepuff boy as she shoved her way through the crowd surrounding the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. "How'd ya manage to lose to _Slytherin_? You Gryffindors must be livid!"

"Shut up!" she screeched as she pushed him hard in the chest. "It was a fluke! We should have won!"

The match had been ridiculous. Gryffindor had outflown those filthy snakes at every turn, holding the score at one hundred and eighty to forty. Until that _Malfoy_ had pranced around and caught the bleeding snitch. He'd probably cheated too. James so had it in his hand first.

The final score had been one hundred and ninety to one hundred and eighty. Ridiculous. Absolutely sodding ridiculous. She felt like slapping the nearest green supporter upside their head. She hoped it would hurt and her dark blue eyes tore around looking for the nearest one in the enormous crowd that was making its way up to the castle. Damn it. There were too many to single one innocent bystander out.

"Rose!" she heard someone call from many meters behind her. "Hey! Rose!"

She didn't turn around in case it was some annoying, dirty, cheating Slytherin. How could they have won that match? It should never have happened.

"Rosie! Wait!" it was a different voice that time.

She let out an angry sigh and spun around. A couple of meters below her, puffing and panting as they struggled up the hill towards the medieval castle, were her two best friends. Paige Armstrong and Felicity Dawes. Paige was still wearing her Quidditch robes as well. When the game had ended and the Gryffindors had belatedly walked back into the change rooms to have an after-match chat, as the captain, Freddie Weasley liked to call it, Rose had taken off. If she had only scored two more goals. Just two. And the match would have been theirs. Damn it!

"Crap, Rose," huffed Felicity. "It nearly killed me trying to catch up to you."

"Yeah," Paige assented, nodding in fervent agreement. "Seriously, just how horrible was that game?" The dark haired girl was frowning and shaking her head. "And when Malfoy caught that freakin' snitch ... ugh, I felt like pulling my hair out."

"You don't have to tell me," said Rose vindictively. "I was there."

Felicity smiled at her. She didn't look too upset, actually. "You played well, guys. Roughin' it up with all those Slytherin boys. Gee, maybe I should try out next season... I could be a Chaser like you, Rose."

"I hoped I roughed them up, dirty cheaters," exclaimed Rose indignantly.

"Now, Rosie, it could have been anyone that let Hagrid's skrewts onto the pitch," she saw her red haired friend's sceptical grimace and added, "Okay, so it probably was the Slytherins. Sure, they were a little distracting but they didn't really affect the game from so far below us."

"I missed the third shot! The big one exploded its butt and it threw me off! I couldn't even concentrate."

Felicity held up her hands in a peacemaking gesture. "Listen, I wouldn't be able to concentrate either. What with that absolutely delicious Beater on the Slytherin side. I mean, damn, that boy is _fine_."

Rose snorted. "You mean Goyle? Isn't he a little young for you, Flick?" she asked jokingly, using her friend's well worn nickname.

"Not Goyle. Ew. I don't want tinea, thank you very much. I was talking about Hawke."

Paige and Rose automatically stiffened. Hawke Zabini. Or otherwise known as Merlin's Gift to Women. With those tight Quidditch muscles, a mop of thick, dark hair and serious eyes, well let's just say he was really easy to look at. No more words needed saying. It only took one name to bring silence to the mouth of every female in the castle. And possibly a handful of the male populace as well.

They tramped along the much used path up to the castle. The sun hung high in the air like a golden orb of flame, shedding a brilliant light on an otherwise frosty Sunday morning. Hogwarts stood stark against the frame that was an English sky, a mass of cloud-reaching turrets and brick foundations. Rose watched it as it grew taller and larger as they moved closer and closer. This was her home. She couldn't picture herself in any other place, except perhaps Grandma and Grandpa's.

Suddenly, she was jostled as a head of white blonde hair pushed her out of the way.

"Watch yourself, Weasley," said the tall boy, his shale eyes flashing like silver. "You're in my way."

"You watch _yourself_, Malfoy," Rose snarled after him, letting the hate seep into every syllable like a viscous poison. "The albinos are coming to collect you soon."

"Keep hoping for that, Weasley."

"I don't need to hope, you cheating scumbag! I know it!"

He laughed, and she hated the fact that it sounded good. "Scumbag? Gee, original. I'd hate to see you _angry_ or something."

She watched with burning blue eyes as he and his posse pushed through the crowd and up the steps to the castle. Just before Scorpius Malfoy disappeared into the depths of the castle he turned and waved.

"Oh, and Weasley," he called over the noise of the pulsing people. "Nice loss today!"

"Screw _you_!" she yelled at his back, earning several dirty looks from her surrounding peers.

* * *

"Hey, Hunter," called Rose from across the table. The dark haired boy looked up. "Did you tell Freddie that I had to pee? I don't want him to think I ran out on him after the match."

Hunter Grayson laughed, his blue-purple eyes flashing in amusement. "Nah. Al told him you were out clubbing Slytherins. Fred just shrugged and said that someone had to."

"Nearly," she muttered under her breath. "Where's Albus and Louis?" she asked, noting her two cousin's lack of presence.

"Louis noticed a pretty brunette in the Hufflepuff stand; I left him to it," answered Albus Potter, sliding into the empty seat beside Rose.

Hunter laughed. "I thought he'd 'met' all the Hufflepuff girls."

Albus grinned shyly. "Yeah. I think they knew each other pretty well."

Paige shook her head. "I suggest we all become nuns. It would be a solution to everything."

Flick laughed. "For you. I personally think that life as an unobligated young witch is perfectly thrilling."

Hunter chuckled. "I'm sure I could make it oh so much more _thrilling_," he said, imitating her inflections.

"You're sure?" she asked sarcastically. "I was discussing the _male_ population, actually."

Hunter clutched his chest. "Oh! Ouch!" he cried, feigning pain and hurt. "Darling Felicity, have you no heart?!"

Paige snorted. "Not for you, Grayson. Most certainly not for you."

He frowned, his dark brows furrowing. "And what's that supposed to mean?" he huffed indignantly.

Albus leaned forward. "It means she goes for blondes. We're out of it, mate," he said, referring to their equally dark hair.

Rose grinned. "It does not mean she goes for blondes, Al. Merlin, you boys are thick. It just means she doesn't go for _Hunter_."

Hunter nodded solemnly. "It's true. I'm a category within myself."

They all laughed. Hunter's ego was well known throughout Hogwarts. There was usually a competition between himself and Louis on who could... well let's just say that they were continuously adding 'notches'. But no matter how hard they tried, neither could ever dream of besting Zabini in that department. Not even put together. And that was saying something.

Lunch was a quiet affair. The Gryffindors were singularly throbbing with fury at their outrageous defeat and most were shooting daggers at the green-clad celebrators at the opposite end of the Great Hall. Even the magically suspended candles that were hung in the air seemed brighter on that side.

"Stuh 'em," said Hunter through a mouthful of chicken. "Ey din derve te win anway..."

Rose nodded. "I still can't help being angry, though. I mean, they put skrewts on the pitch. _Skrewts_!"

"Hey, Rose," said Albus. "Did you do your Herbology essay?"

Rose shrugged. "Half of it. Why?"

"'Cause Aunt Hermione told me to tell you to make sure you finish it. I'm just passing it on."

Rose scowled. "I'm going to be having a serious talk with Neville... er, Professor Longbottom. He has got to stop telling mum about my homework schedule!"

"Or lack of..." muttered Paige, grinning.

"Ugh. Who cares?" continued Rose, pretending to ignore the chuckles of her friends. "It's not like she can follow me to school and make me do my work. Pfft."

"I dunno, Rose," said Paige. "What if she sends you a howler? My mum did last term."

"And you do really need to do your work," said Albus, the little nerd. "I mean, we _do_ have N.E. this year."

Rose glared at him. As if she didn't know. Her brilliant witch of a mother sent her a letter every week detailing a study schedule and new quills and ink. It was getting beyond ridiculous. As if she didn't know that Rose was not a studious child.

Well, she used to be. Rose Weasley was the top of every class, the most intelligent girl in the school. Well on her way to becoming Head Girl– after all, she was Hermione Granger's daughter. It was almost a legacy of sorts. Until sixth year and that cursed party. The one thing that could shatter her perfect reputation turned out to be an innocent bottle and a half of firewhiskey.

The thing is; Rose wasn't dumb. She read the textbooks (and all other manner of books), passed the tests and usually got reasonable marks, she just didn't try. In all honesty, she was an excellent student. She just pretended otherwise. Homework and study had no place in her life these days.

Lunch passed quickly, Rose and her friends leaving the Great Hall soon after Louis's arrival and heading down to the Lake. The group lounged by the water's edge, beneath the cool shade of the old, decaying tree that overhung the glittering surface. Rose felt comfortable; she was quiet and thoughtful, still trying not to thinking about the Quidditch match to Slytherin earlier that day. Paige giggled loudly, breaking through her thoughts. She was leaning over Albus, whispering something that was apparently very amusing in Felicity's ear. Al was red in the face; she guessed that the joke was about him.

Hunter laughed and pointed as one of the Giant Squid's slimy tentacles suddenly burst from the murky black water. A group of first years screamed and ran away. Hunter laughed harder, his blue-violet eyes bright with amusement. Louis – the blonde wonder- leaned casually against the knee of some Hufflepuff girl, his current squeeze. She smiled down at him, twirling her hair and batting her mascara-caked eyelashes. Pathetic. It was so funny, even Rose was laughing to herself. She nudged Hunter who saw her gaze and grinned.

"What's the bet that by Monday, it's a blue-eyed Ravenclaw blonde?" he whispered.

She grinned. "Almost certain."

An hour passed and the lazing teens made no effort to move.

Rose stirred. "It's Christmas in two weeks," she said. "Is anyone staying?"

"I am," said Flick. Hunter nodded in agreement.

"I might," said Louis. "Depends if Victoire decides to come back from Paris early. 'Cause damn, I don't think I could spend all Christmas with her incessant whining and bossing."

Albus yawned. "Pfft. Stuff you guys; _I'm_ not missing Grandma's Christmas dinner for all the gold in the world!"

Rose stared unseeing at the ghostly water. Its icy black surface was eerie and enchanting. She wondered if she'd be able to stay at school. She couldn't bear to go to another Weasley Christmas dinner and have practically everyone she knew ask about her 'behaviour' and 'attitude' and 'what she planned to do with her life'. So fun.

She thought dimly about her life away from Hogwarts. Home, at Denver Place, was usually quiet, to say the least. Her mother, usually so caught up in a painfully tall pile of reports from work, only opened her mouth to say something witty, or to tell her Rose and her brother Hugo to be quiet. Hermione Weasley hadn't shared a decent conversation with her daughter since last year. They just avoided it. Ron preferred to keep away from what was obviously a tense subject; he had no idea what was going on.

Rose stood up. It was almost time for dinner and besides, it was getting cold. The wind was harsher, more pressing; a constant reminder to hide from the elements. She wanted to go to her room before dinner. She didn't say anything, simply turning to leave and walk back up to the castle. Hunter and Paige followed her, the others remaining to talk about the disastrous game.

Hunter elbowed her as they ascended the marble staircase.

"What?" she asked, just a tad on the snappish side.

He shrugged, his purple-blue eyes twinkling in amusement. "Nothing..."

On her other side, Paige was whistling a barely recognisable tune. She was doing fairly well, for someone who couldn't whistle until a week ago.

Rose's eyebrows furrowed suspiciously. Something was up. "What are you two planning?"

Their eyes widened. "Nothing..." they said in unison, hands clasping.

"Tell me!" they were still traipsing up, slowly making their way to Gryffindor Tower. She rounded on Hunter. He was probably easier to convince than Paige. He was such a pushover; a simple egotrip would have him spilling his darkest secrets.

"Why are you being so sneaky?" she demanded, setting herself a step above him so that he could not push past her. "What's going on?"

Hunter opened his mouth to speak, but Paige interrupted him before he could blurt out the truth. How inconsiderate of her. "I'll tell you later, Rosie. Just wait."

Rose eyed them suspiciously.

Hunter shot her the Innocent Look. Paige mimicked it.

Rose sighed. "Fine."

Paige beamed. "Don't worry, Ro," she assured her. "I'll totally make sure you look hot."

"Hot?" Rose asked cautiously. "Why would I need to look hot?"

Hunter laughed. "As if you need an excuse, babe."

"Oh, let's not go there, Hunter," she snarked. "I do recall an incident involving you... and one of my dress robes."

He grinned. "Good times. Still got the frilly purple one, with the slit down the side?"

Rose shook her head. "It always astounds me of the intimate detail you have of my wardrobe, considering you've never been in my room."

He tapped his straight nose. "Never say never, sweet cheeks."

She rolled her eyes and tossed a lock of bright red hair over her shoulder whilst Paige said the password to the Gryffindor commonroom.

Paige and Rose waved goodbye to Hunter and padded up to the Girls Seventh Dorm. Rose immediately claimed the shower, preferring to wash away the horrible Quidditch match with her honey-cinnamon scented shampoo. She sighed to the steamy shower, hoping that Paige was not causing too much of a mess.

"Seriously, Armstrong, what sort of party are we hitting tonight?" asked Rose, stepping out of the shower and staring in disbelief at the mountain of clothes her friend had dumped on her bed.

"A good one."

Rose rolled her eyes at Paige's answer.

"Where are the girls?" the tall flame-haired witch asked, her blue eyes curious.

"Oh, well Flick is probably on her way up now," rambled Paige, contenting herself in full preparation mode. "And Tash and Sam are already at the party, helping set up."

Rose sighed, shifting a few dresses to sit on the bed. "Do I really have to go? You know how I hate parties..."

Paige stiffened. Her grey-green eyes met the blue orbs of her sad friend and she instantly knelt at her feet. "Rosie, it wasn't the party that did that to you."

Rose snorted viciously. "No. It was the general party _environment_."

Paige shook her head and grabbed her friend's hand. "I'll keep you away from him and the firewhiskey. I promise. I'll employ Hunter to entertain you as well. It's a party, Rosie, not a death sentence."

The furrow in her delicate brows deepened. "I don't trust myself."

Paige smiled. "That's good. But at least you trust your friends who won't let a single thing happen. Besides, Albus is going so it won't be much fun at all."

Rose snorted and stood up, thinking of her social-reject cousin. Still chuckling, she went back into the bathroom to scrub her teeth and do her hair. Paige smiled sadly after her friend. She knew that Rose Weasley was a mess. In fact, everyone knew. Everyone knew but her.

When Rose re-entered the room, it was clean, save for two dresses thrown over her bed and an extra person.

"Hey, Flick."

Felicity smiled. "My darling Rosie, Paige insisted that you wear this black dress," she said, standing up and pointing to the ebony tea dress on Rose's bed. "But I disagree and say that you should most definitely wear this sparkly little red number. Your still tan from summer and you should play it your advantage."

Rose rolled her eyes. It was her favourite bad habit. "I like the red."

Flick stuck her tongue out at Paige who turned her nose up. "The red is cute. The black is hot. It's merely choice."

"And she chose the red," smirked Flick. "Which also denotes style..."

"Excuse me? That black dress is –"

"Ladies, please," interrupted Rose, grinning. "I'm wearing the red because of all the pretty sequins. It has nothing to do with cute, hot, style, choice, colour or anything. I just like the sequins."

Felicity muttered something, but Rose ignored her and took the red dress into the bathroom. "Remind me again," she called as she fluttered over her appearance. "Just why are we having a party when we _lost_?"

Paige giggled. "Well, the Slytherins are obviously throwing their all-invited victory bash in the Room of Requirement, but what they don't know is that we bullied the Ravenclaws into throwing a bigger party in their common room. Slytherins hate being left by themselves for long, so they'll show up and be forced to celebrate a gracious loss by Gryffindor."

"I don't see why they won't turn it into their own little party," grumbled Flick as she accidently skewed her eyeliner. Dabbing at the uneven line, she said, "They are Slytherins after all."

"Elizabeth Selles did a spell that doesn't allow them to cheer for themselves inside the room. Pretty clever."

"Really?" asked Rose with interest from the bathroom mirror, where she was smoothing her lips with gloss. "What spell? It sounds complicated."

Rose admired the Head Girl's spellwork. She wondered if the charm would last all night.

"I don't care," sneered Flick. "You ready in there? I need to pee..."

Rose giggled and stepped out, her black flats clapping on the tile. Felicity whistled. "Whoa, girl, keep away from my boyfriend!"

Paige chuckled. "What boyfriend? We are all, sadly, single."

"Give me a few hours," called Felicity as she shut the door.

"I like your top," complimented Rose.

Paige smiled. "Yeah. Couldn't be stuffed to wear a dress. Top and skirt for me."

"It looks pretty," assured Rose, truly admiring the deep purple blouse. It hung from her friend's shoulders, giving sight to her slender neck. "You should wear your hair up."

"Think so? Alright." Paige swept her dark brown dead-straight locks into a casual twist at the nape of her neck. Flick emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a fluorescent jumpsuit... thing. Rose stared for a moment before shrugging; Felicity had the attitude to pull it off.

"Bus!" Rose called across the pulsing Ravenclaw commonroom. "Hey, hey Bus!"

The black haired boy standing in the corner shook his head sadly. "I really wish you would stop calling me that, Rose."

She grinned at her favourite cousin. "Albus, then. Because it's _so_ much cooler."

Hunter elbowed him. "She's got a point, man. But I gotta say, some of those Slytherin kids' names. Well they're just plain stupid. Seriously – who calls their kid Scorpius. Or... or Imperia. Wait and... Hawke?"

Rose laughed. Paige looked up and frowned. Oh that's right, the girl was in love with him.

They chatted for a good ten minutes, waiting for the party to get underway. The Hufflepuffs showed up and more drinks were passed around. The music began to pound and bodies began to move. Lights flashed and there might have been some tuneless chanting at one point.

But the highlight was when the Slytherins poured in through the door, with scowls on their faces and clenched fists. The only two people in the green and silver robes that looked decently pleased to be there were Malfoy and Zabini.

The first thing Scorpius Malfoy saw when he stepped into the blue and bronze covered common room was Rose Weasley vindictively rolling her blue eyes at him and taking a delicate sip of her pumpkin juice.

He sighed.

"Let's not have a repeat, shall we mate?" laughed his dark skinned friend, Hawke. Zabini was peering around the room, eyeing its female inhabitants, and judging which ones he could get naked the quickest. He was nothing if not thorough.

Scorpius shook his head and accepted the drink that was passed to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the pretty Weasley make her way to the other end of the large room, the furthest from him. He sighed again.

**AN: Sorry about the false alarm, to those who have me on alert. I forgot that I had an extra two thousand words from the next chapter at the end of the document and when I realised I was like, "oh CRAP!! Delete, DELETE!!"**

**Haha. Whoops.**

**Seriously. I am on a roll. I updated Adore You last night... a couple of one shots during the week... violent deliverance. The next chapter of This is for real is nearly done and I'm half way through Screaming my silence, so look forward to that..**

**Please review! xx**


	2. The Imperial Intervention

**2. The Imperial Intervention**

"Okay, man, she is _hot_," exclaimed Hawke in exasperation. "What the hell is with you?"

"Nothing," his blonde friend muttered in annoyance, trying to concentrate on Slughorn's lecture.

Hawke rolled his eyes, "Scorpius, mate. I'm sorry, but if you don't ask Demeter out, she's gonna lose interest. And then I'll ask her out."

"Go ahead."

Hawke grimaced and grabbed the twitching quill from his best friend. "Malfoy, grow some balls would you? Is it a girl? C'mon, man, you can tell me."

Scorpius scowled. "It's not a girl."

"It's a boy?"

"No. It's not romantically related at all."

"Sexually?"

"No."

"Physically?"

"Same thing, but no."

Hawke groaned. "What the hell is causing you to become a zombie? Seriously, I've met Inferi with better personalities than you at the moment."

"Mr Malfoy?"

Scorpius looked up at the walrus-sized teacher. "Murtlap root, sir."

"Excellent," boomed the wobbling Head of Slytherin. "Now, as class is nearly finished, I'm going to set some homework. I want an essay on the five uses of Murtlap root, as well as an explanation on the relevance of the moon cycle." The seventh years groaned. "Miss Weasley, stay behind."

Scorpius glanced up. Weasley had her bright hair pulled back into a loose braid, and she was twirling it thoughtfully in her fingers. Her eyes were closed, her books were closed, her bag was closed. Did she even do any work in class? Beside her, that Armstrong girl, the Gryffindor Keeper, was nudging her friend. He wondered why Weasley didn't look the least bit interested in the fact that Slughorn was about to chew her head off. Strange girl.

"Mate, if it's Weasley, I swear to Merlin..." said Hawke, shaking his head, having noticed his friend's distraction.

"It's not Weasley," the tall blonde responded as he put his notes in his bag. He waited for Hawke, who was infinitely slower, to get his things together. They left the dungeon, Scorpius throwing one curious glance back to where Weasley was still at her desk, twirling her hair and ignoring Slughorn as he spoke to her.

He shook his head. Strange girl.

He followed the other Slytherins back to the Great hall for lunch, trying his best to act civil to Demeter Corrigan, who was hanging off his left arm.

"Scorp," she said, tossing her raven hair over her shoulder ostentatiously. "You know that Hogsmeade weekend coming up..." she trailed off suggestively.

He groaned internally. "Yes."

"Well, I was thinking..."

"Oh, crap, I left my book in the dungeon!" And he bolted back the way he had come, down the steps.

_Wait, I don't need to go to the dungeon..._

Just as the thought ran through his head, he bowled into a small, bright-haired somebody.

Weasley's books slipped from her grasp and she stumbled backwards. "Watch it, Malfoy!" she snarled. She sounded pretty vicious for such a tiny person.

Oh, shit. He hated ending up alone with Weasley. It was indescribably awkward and always ended up with them fighting.

Why did he not realise that she would still be down here, talking to Slughorn? _Idiot_.

"Oh, Weasley. Haven't you learnt yet? People don't stop to let scum like you pass. You're meant to wait for them? Didn't your mother tell you that?"

She hissed at the mention of her mother. It had been a very subtle reference to her blood. "And didn't _your_ mother tell you that such a scowl is unbecoming on anyone. Actually, come to think of it, she probably taught it to you... you know, from having to look into your ugly face since you were born."

"A born comedian, Weasley. Too bad it wasn't funny."

"A born animagus, Malfoy. Too bad I can't tell the difference between 'Ferret Scorpius' and 'Human Scorpius'."

He chuckled, that last call was actually pretty amusing. He bent to pick her books up. He handed her the potions text and her notebook, ignoring the confused look on her pretty face, and walked past, calling over his shoulder, "Watch where you're walking next time."

She shook her head and made her way up the stairs. He waited for her to leave before turning around again.

Damn it.

Rose Weasley would never, ever forgive him. Not that it mattered... it was just fact. He didn't care so much about what actually happened – it was both their faults, a stupid mistake. But he did feel guilty that the whole school found out. He didn't know who told, but Weasley couldn't look at him the same anymore. In reality, she tried not to look at him at all.

Stepping into the Great Hall, he sat down between the Zabini twins. No doubt Hawke and Imperia would be able to deflect Demeter's attempts at asking him out.

Imperia raised one regal, perfectly plucked, dark brow at him before turning back to her salad. He considered her one of the most beautiful girls in this school. The other was Weasley. Painful to admit, but true nonetheless.

Imperia Zabini (the older twin) was a tall, dark skinned, brown-eyed pureblooded princess. She and Hawke were his closest friends. It had always been assumed by their parents that they would marry, but both Scorpius and Imperia had no desire to become closer than they were.

"Has Demeter been throwing herself at you again?" she said carefully, in her strong but soft voice.

Hawke giggled. Seriously, he did. "What do you think?"

Imperia smiled. "Scorpius is quite a catch. I hardly blame her."

Scorpius laughed. He had often used Imperia to get girls off his back. Somehow, they tended not to be so bold when they thought he was dating the Zabini girl. There was some sort of domineering force about her that made other girls stay clear. For such a pretty and nice (well, for a Slytherin) girl, she didn't have many friends.

The seventeen year old boy helped himself to a plate of food and slowly began to eat, dreading his next class. At that moment, a flash of red caught his eye and he glanced up to see Weasley saunter into the Great Hall, flanked by Hunter Grayson, Albus Potter and that Armstrong girl. He sighed, shaking his blonde head.

_I'm not obsessed. I'm not._

He was. Really. Scorpius Malfoy was infatuated with Rose Weasley and had been since June last year.

"Stop looking at her," whispered Imperia, the only person who actually knew and wasn't disgusted by his half-blood interest. "She's not stupid; she's going to realise soon, the way you undress her with your eyes."

"I do not!" he huffed indignantly.

_I undressed her with my hands, stupid._

_Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!_ He chastised himself.

"Whatever," Imperia said. "We have a Muggle Studies double next. Only four people in the class. A whole hour and a half to imagine her naked. Heaven on earth, right, Scorpius?"

"Shut up, Zabini," he hissed menacingly.

She laughed. "Touchy. Defensive. You know what, Malfoy?"

He sighed. _This should be good._ "What, Imperia?"

"I think that today I am going to help you out a little bit."

He frowned. Not good. Not good _at all_. "What do you mean?"

She shot him a dazzling smile. "Never you worry your pretty little head," she said in that annoying condescending tone she had mastered as soon as she popped out of her mother's womb. She stood up, her empty plate disappearing, she shouldered her bag and stepped over the bench chair.

"Better hurry, Malfoy," she called. "I would not want you to miss your favourite class..."

He groaned and grabbed his stuff, following her from the hall. _What a little bitch_.

***

"Where're you going, Rosie?" asked Hunter through a mouthful of food.

"I have Muggle Studies," she said calmly, eyeing the entire slice of pie that he had miraculously managed to shove into the crevasse of his face.

"I can't believe you picked that," said Paige, shaking her head. "Who would willingly pick a class with just three other students, Slytherins, I might add?"

"Me. It's a bludge."

Flick giggled. "Fair enough."

"You really should be concentrating, Rosie," said Albus, but seeing the fierce look on her face, backed off quickly. "I mean... have fun!"

She smiled at him and left the hall. She quickly navigated her way to the fifth floor, third room. Her classmates were already there, sitting in the back corner. She shrugged and took her normal seat on the opposite side.

As she was dumping her books on the table, she noticed a flickering shadow as someone sat down beside her.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" asked Imperia Zabini politely.

"N-not at all," replied Rose. She'd never spoken to the tall exotic girl before. She was very intimidating.

"Wonderful," she smiled brightly as she opened her notebook.

At that moment, Professor Urbine stepped into the room. His robes swished as he walked the front, threw his textbook down on the table and immediately turned to the chalk board. "Page eighty three," was all he said before burying his face in the book and sitting down.

"I think he is a pathetic teacher," said Imperia stiffly.

Rose nodded. "He's not really a teacher. He doesn't exactly... teach."

Imperia smiled and glanced over her shoulder, catching the attentive eyes of Scorpius Malfoy. He frowned when he saw his friend's grin and looked down.

"I was going to invite him to sit here," said the dark girl softly as an explanation. "But I got the impression that the two of you didn't get along. I did not want to make it awkward."

Rose shrugged. "Invite him if you want. I'll ignore him, it _will_ be awkward and it _may_ end in blood and tears... but go ahead."

"Alright then," said Imperia slyly. She turned and waved for the other two students to join them.

Rose's eyes widened. She was being sarcastic – no need to pay attention to it. Allegra Cole stepped up, grabbed her books and took the chair beside Imperia. That left...

_Oh, no..._

Scorpius sat down beside her.

Why the hell would he do this? They hate each other! This can only end badly.

"Weasley," he muttered.

"Malfoy, lovely to see you," she sneered back.

He shook his head and ignored her. Ignored her! That was even more insulting than being an arrogant bitch-face.

Fine, two can play at this game.

"So, Rose, are you dating anyone?" asked Imperia curiously. Rose noticed the smirk she tossed Malfoy's way.

"Why, are _you_ interested, Zabini?"

She laughed. "No, no, just curious."

"Well, for your curiosity's sake, no I'm not."

Rose swore that Imperia just winked at Malfoy. What the hell? "Ah. Got your eye on anyone then?"

_As if I'd tell you, Slytherin_, she thought. "Not particularly."

Imperia shrugged. "Listen, your friend Hunter, is he single?"

Rose snorted. "Yeah, today. Can't say the same for tomorrow."

Imperia laughed. "Do you know Georgiana Lyons, in my house? She's fancied him for years."

"That's lovely, Imperia."

The three Slytherins were busily taking notes from the textbook, outlining the uses of a telephone. Allegra glanced up at Rose, who was leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed.

"Aren't you going to take notes?" she asked disdainfully. "Wouldn't want the Great Granger's daughter to fail, would we?"

I chuckled. "'Course not. If you're so worried about my marks, Cole, you can copy your notes and deliver them to my dorm. Otherwise, piss off."

Scorpius, on her right, said nothing and ignored the entire conversation. However, Imperia threw her head back and laughed. "I like you, Weasley."

Rose stared at the dark-skinned girl. "Cool..."

Allegra scowled. "As if I would give you my notes."

"As if I would read them," the red-head returned.

"As if –"

Imperia interrupted, "This is stupid. Allegra, shut up."

_What the hell?_ thought Rose. _Why is a Slytherin, a Zabini no less, sticking up for me?_

Allegra shot a blood curdling glare at Rose before leaning back over her parchment.

"Rose," said Imperia carefully. "I think we should accompany each other to Hogsmeade this weekend. Have a girls day. What do you think?"

_Is she kidding?_ "I have to check with the others, but..."

"Paige and Felicity, right?"

Rose nodded, a small crease forming between her delicate brows as she tried to see through the facade. "Yeah, them."

"They should come too! We can get manicures and pedicures and have lunch at this little cafe I know. You should ask them."

Rose blinked. "Sure. I'll let you know what they say."

"Excellent," said Imperia, tapping one nail against the wooden desk. "Oh, Scorpius?"

"Hmm...?"

"You're snapping your quill."

***

Scorpius felt like he was drowning. What the hell was she thinking? Imperia, the ice-bitch, asking Rose Weasley and her Gryffindor cohorts to Hogsmeade. For manicures! Were pigs flying? Had hell frozen over?

He endured the rest of the class in utter silence, trying desperately not to inhale Weasley's honey and cinnamon scented hair. It was beyond ridiculous. Why did he listen to Imperia when she waved him over? He should have sat by himself.

He did not miss the smirks his evil friend continually sent his way, but he did not respond. He kept writing (after pulling out a new quill) his notes and trying his best to ignore the girl beside him.

Was it cliché to have a complete infatuation with his father's enemy's daughter? He was pretty sure it was. What was he meant to do? Get over it? He tried that.

Scorpius knew he was not _in love_ with Weasley (gross). He was simply fascinated by her beauty and wit. And she was smart. She never studied, never handed up homework, but still passed her exams. She was the fourth highest scoring student in the year. The Head Girl, Elizabeth Selles, was first, he was second (to his father's delight), Albus Potter was third... and then there was Weasley.

She was talented, a superb Chaser, highly beautiful and yet she was the most depressed person he knew. And he hated knowing that it was somewhat his fault.

Professor Urbine dismissed the class with a wave of his hand. Weasley shot from her seat, giving Imperia a quick promise to discuss Hogsmeade next lesson, and bolted from the room. Allegra waited at the door for the Zabini girl, but Imperia waved her off. With a scowl, the waif-like Slytherin marched off, leaving Scorpius and Imperia alone in the room.

"What are you thinking?" he hissed. "Asking Weasley to Hogsmeade? Are you insane?"

She shrugged. "I actually do like her. She's really nice."

"You've never spoken to her before!"

She grinned. "No, but thanks to my fortuitous attempt at getting you to sit next to her, we _did_ talk and I found out that she is a smart, funny girl and I would like to get to know her better."

Scorpius glared as she packed away her things, much slower than normal. "And what's your mum and dad going to say when they hear you've been getting friendly with Granger and Weasley's kid, huh?"

Imperia sighed. "Don't be petty, Scorpius. It's unbecoming."

"You know I'm not talking blood, Zabini."

She tossed him her bag. "Carry that," she said as she led him from the room. "Look. I know she doesn't like you, and she has a perfectly valid reason not to. But if I hang out with her, not only will I finally make a decent female friend – because as you know, I don't have any – but you will be able to finally apologise for what happened last year and begin to make amends," she took a hurried breath after the long sentence. "Scorpius, I know you. I know you want nothing more than to say sorry to Weasley and that the only thing stopping you is fear and that ridiculous Malfoy pride."

"Well, yeah, but that's not the point!"

"What's not the point?"

He blinked. "Imperia, please don't force me to do this."

She grabbed his elbow, hauling him out of the way as Professor September swept down the corridor. "Look, Scorpius, I am not making you do a single thing. I didn't even get you to talk to her. No, listen," she said when he tried to escape down the Charms wing. She yanked him back beside her. "You don't have to do a thing you don't want to. I'm just getting you into a position where you have the opportunity to apologise and make it up to her. Up to you whether or not you take it."

"You're a genius and I hate you," he growled, angry that she was completely taking over his life. _Wait until Hawke finds out his sister wants to do play dates with a Weasley_, he thought evilly.

Imperia laughed and pushed him back towards the Charms room before heading off to Ancient Runes.

He sighed. At least he had Charms with the Ravenclaws. He didn't think he could stomach another class with Rose Weasley today.

Yet, he still wondered if she would be at the lake tomorrow morning. He hoped she would be there. And somehow, he knew he would see her sitting on the shore, her toes dipping hesitantly into the frigid water. Somehow, he knew. And Scorpius Malfoy walked into Charms with the tiniest of smiles on his face.

***

_I'm late for Quidditch training... I'm late for Quidditch training... damn, crap, shit!_

"Rosie Weasley!" sang Flick.

"Felicity Dawes!" responded the flustered girl in the same annoying voice as she pounded up the stairs to the Gryffindor commonroom at seven o'clock.

"What's got your knickers in a knot?"

"Late for Quidditch, can't talk, gotta go, bye!"

"Okay, see you later!" called the kooky girl after her friend as Rose darted into the commonroom, narrowly missing decapitating a first year with her book bag.

She rushed up the stairs to her dorm, flung her books on the bed and pulled off her school robes. She quickly pulled on her training gear (it was annoying that Dom and Roxanne accidentally-on-purpose blew up the changing facilities on the pitch) and fled back through the castle.

"Heads up!" she yelled as she jumped the banister of the marble Staircase leading to the Great Hall. About three students looked up, quizzical looks on their faces, as Rose Weasley tore past them and out the open oak doors.

She didn't break pace when she got to the pitch, grabbing her broomstick from the shed, and bolting to join in with the rest of the team as they were warming up.

"Yo, Ro-ro!"

Shut up, Callum.

Callum Thomas was a sixth year and a fellow Chaser, along with her and Hunter. He also had an annoying tendency to call her 'Ro-ro', possibly the most frustrating nickname in the history of Britain, perhaps even all of Europe. Shaking her head, she dumped her broom on the rack next to the others, and fell into step next to Paige.

Rose loved sprints.

She was the only one in the team who would happily do them for hours, wind, rain or shine. Paige grimaced at her and focussed on making her breaths even as they ran the length of the pitch. Rose had a pleased smile on her face as she sprinted.

"Uh uh, Rose," called Freddie, the captain and a cousin, "Your doing jumps and suicides." He had learnt not to punish her with laps.

"Fred," she whined. "I was only two minutes late. Come on!"

He grinned at her sadistically, his red hair glinting evilly in the dying sunlight. "I think you're still doing jumps and suicides."

She groaned and went to grab her broom. Jumps and suicides was the worst warm up routine/punishment ever. It involved flying to one side of the pitch, quickly dismounting and jumping (ankles locked together) to the other side and back. Then climbing back onto the broom, flying a lap, jumping off and repeating. Many, many times. Not only did it make a person ache, it made them look bloody stupid too.

Rose was puffing and gasping for air by the time she had finished twenty-five cycles. Horrible. Fred Weasley was going to kill her. She joined the rest of the team in drills for an hour, hitting Callum every time he called her Ro-ro.

Training finished two hours later and the team stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower, caked in mud and sweat. The only true evidence of a good practice.

"Do Tash and Sam even live here anymore?" demanded Paige as she and Rose stalked into their dormitory and dumped their kit.

The only occupant of the room was Felicity, and she was immersed in the latest copy of _Spider Witch_ (she finds great joy in children's comic books).

Rose shrugged. "All Tasha's friends are Ravenclaws aren't they? And Sam's dating that bloke... Liam, right?"

Paige rolled her eyes as she stalked into the shower. "They're still Gryffindors! They can't _live_ there!"

"Suits us perfectly," said Flick, looking up. She patted the bed beside her and Rose – despite her dirty Quidditch gear – clambered in beside her. "Besides, Sam will probably break up with him soon."

Rose giggled. "Yeah, she'll spend a week here and then latch on to some ravishing Hufflepuff and move out again."

Chuckling, Flick smacked her with the comic book. They chattered quietly (mostly about the fact that Scottie Blake was _still_ trying to ask Felicity out) for about fifteen minutes before Paige emerged from the shower, clothed in her polka-dot pyjamas.

"Oh!" exclaimed Rose, the traumatic Muggle Studies class returning to the front of her mind. "Oh, crap, guess what happened in Class Doom this arvo?"

"Ooh, sounds exciting. Tell?"

"Imperia Zabini – yes, I said her name, the Ice Bitch herself – asked us out."

Paige and Flick stared at her for a moment before the latter started to giggle at the wording. Seriously, Paige said, "That's a little weird, Rosie."

Rose shook her head impatiently. "_Not_ what I meant. She wants us to hang out on the Hogsmeade weekend. She wants to go shopping and get manicures and stuff!"

There was approximately three seconds of silence as the three girls stared at each other, calmly contemplating any hidden motives the Slytherin might have.

The pregnant pause was broken by Felicity. Of course. "I like manicures."

Paige snorted. "That's nice, Flicka, now let the big girls talk."

Rose snickered. "I don't know if I should make up some stupid excuse or not..."

"Was she being nice?" asked Felicity patiently, already assessing her nails to determine which colour she wanted.

Rose shrugged. "Yeah. She sounded pretty believable. But, you know..."

"She's a Slytherin."

Rose nodded, getting off the bed. "Exactly."

Felicity clucked her tongue. "That could be considered inter-House discrimination, Rose. As a prefect, I should dock points."

Rose laughed. "That'll be the day."

"Wait, Rose?" asked Paige, just before the red-head closed the bathroom door.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you meeting your Aunt Angelina for lunch in Hogsmeade that day?"

Rose blinked. "Aw, crap!"

Paige considered for a second. "Why don't you tell Zabini that we'll shop with her for the morning, and then we have to ditch because you're meeting your Aunt? That way it won't be horribly awkward and you don't have to spend the day with her."

Rose tapped her skull. "You're a smart one, Paigey."

Just before the bathroom door snapped shut once more, the Gryffindor Keeper called out, "Oh, and Rose?"

"What?"

"I used all the hot water."

"Damn you," was all the disgruntled Weasley said before scurrying from the room, down the hall and into the boys dorm to kick out a cousin out of his shower. As an incentive to use less water, the Headmistress had enchanted the showers to turn cold if used for over ten minutes. The heat didn't come back on for half an hour after that.

Paige giggled when she heard her friend yelling out in the opposite room, "Albus! I need to have a shower _now_. Get out!"

**AN: Ooohh Scorpius POV huh? Infatuated with Rose Weasley? A Malfoy? That can only end in a long-lasting cruciatus curse, courtesy of Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy... ****Keep reading, next chapter I'm pretty sure you shall find out what happened to make Rose detest and fear Scorpius.**

**So, what did you think? Reviewer question: how's my third person? I never write that way and I just want to know if it's confusing, or I say their names too much or something?**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**

**xx**

**There are some character images I fixed on my bio page, if you feel like taking a peek...**


	3. Beautiful Melancholy

**Go Gently, Sweet Sanity**

**3. Beautiful Melancholy**

Rose was shivering. It was cold in the silent dorm room. The dawn light filtered gently through the paned window, casting a soft illumination on the goose bumps on her skin. Where the bloody hell was her blanket? She squirmed around, trying to locate some source of warmth. The other two girls were all still asleep, huddled in their blankets.

She pulled herself out of bed, shuffling over to her cupboard. She yanked a sweater over herself, and pulled on her trainers. Just before darting from the frigid room, she grabbed her Gryffindor scarf, just in case.

Hogwarts was empty at this time in the morning. It always was. It was about six or seven o'clock and the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains, shedding its ropes of bright radiance over the grounds. It was pretty, as it always would be, here in this place.

She walked slowly through grounds, winding her way to the lake. There was no hurry, for it was a Saturday. No classes. It was a Hogsmeade trip though, and she only had a couple of hours before she had to go up and get ready.

The grass was cool and dewy, it soaked her sneakers. She meandered almost aimlessly down the gentle slope, bearing slightly in the direction of the Lake.

Rose Weasley loved sprinting, reading, her cat and the Black Lake. And not many people knew about the last one. She'd always been fascinated by it mercuric, deceptive depths. She remembered listening avidly as a child to her mother and father's memory of the hour-and-a-bit they spent as hostages on its floor.

Rose had always found it mesmerising. The chilling, haunting body of water had drawn her in since first year. She got up early most mornings to watch the dawn break over the lake. It was her moment, her thinking time.

She liked how the idea of its illusion appealed to her. The Black Lake held so many facets. It was alluring, it was deep, it was treacherous, it was beautiful and it was always an unknown. One did not know what to expect from it. Hermione had always told her tales of its hidden magic. Rose wasn't sure if they were true or not, but was content to believe it anyway.

Sitting by the edge of the water, she peeled off her shoes, gasping at the sudden coldness, and slipped her toes into the icy liquid. Leaning back, she rested her weight on her forearms.

Think, Rose. Time to think.

Ashamed as she was to admit it, this was her Scorpius Time. Her few moments to consider the boy who had shattered her world. She was the perfect girl, a Weasley to the bone. Until that damned party... And now, she wasn't quite sure.

There are many problems that life might throw a teenage girl, but an identity crisis can be one of the hardest. Adolescents crave, above anything, direction. A simple notion of where they are going.

And Rose wasn't sure.

She wasn't running from her demons, but she wasn't facing them either. She didn't have anything to escape from, and nowhere to escape to. She was lost, and Rose Camilla Weasley wasn't so sure that she hated the feeling.

She slipped her toes out of the water, noticing that they were beginning to turn blue. As she tied her shoes back on, she thought about Malfoy.

The boy that had ruined her life.

It was one thing to take advantage of a drunken girl who had just found out that her mother had had an affair, but it was another to then tell the entire school the next day, and even go to the trouble of writing to her _father_ to inform him that Scorpius had _shagged_ his baby girl! The nerve!

And then Ronald - the firecracker that he was - stormed over to Malfoy Manor and began to beat Draco's arse all over his perfectly manicured lawn, completely taking out his fury over his daughter's defilement and his wife's alleged adultery on his arch-nemesis.

Then, of course, this stunt made it to page three of the _Daily Prophet_. The headline: _A Weasley-Malfoy Love Affair Turns Foul_. And, you guessed it, the article was written by none other than Rita Skeeter. Needless to say that not a word was truth.

Since when had Rose 'pined by his window-side, day and night, for a year'? Since when had Malfoy proposed to her at breakfast in the Great Hall? Since when had Rose and Scorpius been the 'most loved couple in Hogwarts'?

Hermione Weasley was furious. Skeeter has not written an article since, and she was still recovering the use of her right arm... And then there was that illegal animagus lawsuit.

So to say that Rose was more than a little upset over the entire incident was one thing...

Everyone had told her to just forget it; that no one thought any less of her. But they did. She could see their revulsion in their eyes. Her mother and father had made amends and gotten back together after a three month separation. Apparently, Hermione had been slightly intoxicated at a work function and... well, Rose knew _all_ about that excuse.

She stood up. She was meeting Flick, Paige and Imperia at the gates in fifteen minutes. Hopefully this session of feminine punishment would be relatively pain-free. At least she was able to see Aunt Angelina at midday. She frowned, thinking of the lecture her mother would give her if she found out about the prescription.

But who even cared what Hermione Granger thought anyway? The woman didn't pay a piece of mind to anyone but herself and the image of her _perfect_ family and her work.

So she can sodding well piss off.

***

Paige and Felicity were standing at the gates when she arrived. They were waiting for Imperia, when Flick spoke up. "I have decided," she said gravely, running a hand through her short brown hair. "That I am going to go and find Scottie."

Paige blinked. "Alright then Miss Abrupt. Never mind leaving us in the evil clutches of a manipulative Slytherin..."

"Manipulative Slytherin?"

The three of them jumped and turned around, to be faced with a grinning Imperia Zabini.

"I didn't see any conniving Snakes on my way down, but I will let you know if I do," she added, a laughing smile breaking on her face.

Paige uttered a short, very _very_ fake laugh. Just to ease the tension a little.

"Hey, Imperia," Rose said, realising that none of her friends were about to speak. "You ready to head on down?"

"Of course."

Flick chuckled. At what, Paige, Rose and Imperia had no idea. "Well, I'm off to coerce Scottie Blake into snogging me. Later."

"Bye..." muttered Paige.

"Have fun," called Imperia.

"But not too much!" added Rose, after a second's thought.

"Yeah," said the Slytherin. "Don't do anything Rose wouldn't do!"

Flick didn't hear her. Rose and Paige did though, and they stiffened and turned to face the smirking Zabini twin.

Rose said nothing, calmly assessing the malice that may have been intended in Imperia's comment.

Paige, however, was nothing if not ferociously loyal. Almost like a little terrier dog, she was. "And what does that mean, exactly, Zabini?"

Imperia opened her mouth to respond, evidently in the most Slytherin way she knew how, but Rose interrupted her. "Forget it. Let's just go."

Imperia smiled and nodded, following Rose as she walked out of the enormous wrought iron gates. Paige lurked behind, glaring and muttering to herself about insufferable bitches.

They strolled through Hogsmeade. Rose and Imperia made a deal that if they could visit Quality Quidditch, they would go to Madam Tatterfoots. So here they were, groaning at the window of a very feminine looking shop and looking around for the nearest escape route.

Imperia shook her head. "You promised. I spent an hour in that Quidditch store, so now we shall spend an hour in here. Looking at dresses." Rose didn't miss the fact that the Slytherin had checked her classy gold watch for at least the fifth time in ten minutes.

Paige groaned, but Rose pushed her inside anyway – they had promised, after all. "I don't even need dressrobes until graduation!"

"Wrong," said Imperia softly. "The prefects are planning a little... get together for Christmas Eve. You'll need dresses, so I figured that you'd want to get them now. Trust me, by the time everyone hears about it, all the nice ones will be gone."

"Get together? What get together?" demanded Paige as the girls set their bags down by the door.

"We only finalised the decision in the meeting yesterday, so no one knows yet. You have to keep quiet about it though," she responded, staring at Paige. "Until the notices go out next week."

"Oh. Okay. _Cooool_," said Paige sarcastically.

Imperia looked mildly unconcerned with her lack of enthusiasm as she sifted through a rack of slinky black dresses. She checked her watch again, and Rose wondered if she was meeting someone.

Rose shrugged. "Can't be too bad."

Paige rolled her grey-green eyes bitterly. "Oh, not bad at all... Now I only need to worry about finding a date, a dress and all those other things that I stress about and I also have a trollsack of homework and essays to write and I think your cousin is pissed at me."

"Albus is pissed at you?" Rose asked curiously as she moved about the smallish store. She eyed a pretty lilac dress – the colour of the flowers near Hagrid's hut, and checked its size. Albus was generally never angry at Paige. They got on too well. Seeing as she was Rose's best friend, and Albus was her favourite cousin, they did spend a fair bit of time together.

"And I have no idea why."

Imperia coughed loudly and the two Gryffindors looked over at her. She held up a shimmery, beaded smoke-grey dress. "Weasley! You must try this dress on – it was practically made for you."

Rose moved over to the dark haired girl and reached for the dress. Imperia was right – it was stunning. The soft grey colour was tinged with a dash of navy and lapis lazuli-like beads sewn into the neckline and hem. It was a halter-neck and reached the floor when Imperia held it against her. Moaning in want, she grabbed the dress and ran to the changing room, the shop assistant looking on with interest.

Rose stripped and slipped the dress on over her head. It fitted her perfectly up the top, clinging to her curves, the scooped front highlighting her collarbone and meeting at the nape of her neck.

The sheer satin fabric was so light that she felt almost naked wearing it.

"Rose? Did you die in there or something?" called Paige, obviously grumpy at being left alone with Imperia.

"Show us, Weasley," added the Slytherin. "Come out the front, there's a bigger mirror near the door..."

Grimacing, Rose unlocked the fitting room door and stepped out. She could see Paige sitting down beside the counter and Imperia stood, looking interestedly out the store window.

"Mother of Merlin, you look like a... bloody hell," stated Paige in adoration.

Imperia looked up from her watch, smirking slyly. "Come over her, let me see!"

Rose moved closer to the window. She spun, the dress twirling out in a fan about her ankles. She grinned. It wasn't humanly possible of her to leave the store without buying the dress.

"Gorgeous," said Imperia. "Oh, is that...?"

"What?" asked Rose, turning to face her by the window. Imperia was looking out at the boy standing in the street, his jaw on the ground and his silver eyes wide.

***

Who was he kidding? Rose Weasley was a goddess.

He tried to swallow, he really did, but Scorpius couldn't seem to get his brain working fast enough. She was standing by the window of the dress shop, wearing her... dress with a look of horror on her face.

He couldn't bring himself to move, not even to glare at Imperia, whom he knew was smirking to herself at a job well done. The cow had set him up. She asked him to meet her by the dress shop at exactly eleven-thirty and she had planned for him to see Rose wearing some stunning gown. _Sneaky, conniving, Slytherin bitch_, he thought to himself before blinking.

Weasley was still standing there, her mouth slightly open, and the look of a startled rabbit on her face. Like she wanted to run, but her muscles were locked up. Sort of like his.

Paige Armstrong, the Gryffindor Keeper, was trying to urge her friend back into the fitting rooms.

When Weasley finally moved out of sight, he let out a heaving breath. He shot Imperia a deathly glare, one that clearly stated, "I'm going to tell your brother that you shagged Nathan Perks," before stalking off.

He tried to calm himself, he really did. But Scorpius couldn't shake the image of Weasley standing in the window, a look of pure horror on her face, wearing that damned dress.

He cursed and kicked at the pavement, forcing his body not to turn around and do something stupid. Like stalk her. Yeah, that would be bad.

"Scorpius."

He turned, hoping to Merlin, God, Buddha or whoever else may be listening to his prayers that it wasn't Rose Weasley.

Imperia stood there, smiling wickedly, with one delicate eyebrow raised.

"I hate you," he said simply. "You meddling, conniving, _evil_, bloody cow."

She laughed. "Oh, come now, Scorpius. As if you didn't enjoy seeing Weasley in that dress. She bought it you know..."

He swallowed tightly.

Imperia noticed, and a new level of cunning entered her demeanour. "I wonder who she takes to the dance coming up for Christmas Eve... They'd be a lucky man. She's stunning, don't you think, Master Malfoy?"

Gulping, he shook his head. "She has her flaws."

Imperia nodded blithely as she led them down the street, Scorpius being incapable of moving without being pulled. His mouth was dry.

"But flaws are beautiful things, aren't they?"

He blinked, desperately wanting to contradict her, but finding that he simply could not speak at all.

* * *

Rose was horrified.

Paige tried to console her as she was lead by her elbow into the Three Broomsticks. The shocked look didn't leave her face the entire time.

"Rose. It was Malfoy. I know he's an incorrigible bastard, but pull yourself together, girl," Paige urged. "He's not worth the embarrassment you're probably drowning in right now."

Rose blinked, her blue eyes moving about the crowded pub. "Do you see my aunt?"

"No," replied Paige, glancing around. "But I have to go and help Flick. Apparantly she jumped some stranger who wasn't Scottie Blake and started snogging him, thinking it was Scott, and is currently in a pickle. The bloke's wife caught her."

Rose rolled her eyes, allowing a falsely amused laugh to leave her lips. Paige smiled at her and turned, leaving the bar in a hurry to collect their lunatic friend.

Rose sat on the stool for quite a while – nearly fifteen minutes – whilst she waited for Aunt Angelina to arrive. She tried desperately, _desperately_ hard not to think about Malfoy. At all.

Strangely, it was working. Who knew the image of Neville Longbottom doing the cancan would banish the shocked face of Scorpius Malfoy?

"Rosie!"

She spun around and smiled at the woman who had just entered the bar. Angelina Weasley's dark skin glinted from the dim lights in the room as she made her way over to her niece. She hugged Rose and kissed her cheek, immediately asking about school and her friends. Angelina noticed that, again, Rose was distant and short.

She'd always been quiet, Angelina remembered. A shy girl who preferred the company of books, rather than friends and only told her deepest secrets to her equally quiet cousin, Albus. She'd grown up at Hogwarts, learning to come out of her little world. _She'd_ _been fine until that cursed party_, thought Angelina darkly.

"Did you bring them?" asked Rose, her voice dark.

Angelina nodded, almost sadly. She hated giving them to her niece. The wife of George Weasley was Healer at St Mungo's. She dealt with Rose's prescription. She reached into the front pocket of her orange robe and pulled out a small brown paper parcel.

"There's a month's worth in there," she said quietly. "Only one a day, honey."

Rose frowned. "But I think –"

Angelina shook her head. "No, Rose. I'm not upping the dosage. These anti-depressant potions are damn strong already. If they're not working, I'm cancelling the script and suggesting counselling. We have an agreement, Rose."

The agreement that involved not telling Hermione Weasley that her daughter was clinically depressed. Rose had to be responsible with her potions, had to contact her aunt weekly and had to keep an eye out on Fred and Roxanne Weasley – the most troublesome kids at Hogwarts.

"Alright. They still work, I just... it doesn't matter. Thanks, Aunty Ang."

Angelina nodded. "You're welcome, honey. Remember, talk to Neville if you need anything. Or owl me."

Rose nodded, her red hair curtaining her face. "Sure. So what did you want to eat? My shout this time."

Angelina shook her head. "Sorry, Rosie Posie, but I have to go back to work. I was going to tell you earlier, but it slipped my mind."

"Oh, that's okay."

Angelina smiled and stood up. She reached for her niece and hugged Rose to her chest. "I'm serious, honey. Owl me if you need anything. Anything at all. Even if it is just to rant and let something off your chest."

"Thanks, Aunty Ang," Rose said again, almost smiling. She tucked the parcel into her pocket and followed her aunt out of the pub. She wasn't that hungry either.

Angelina Weasley disapparated back to St Mungo's, and Rose decided to go back to school.

She tried not to think about that bloody sod Malfoy as she walked, but she really couldn't help it. She hated him.

She hated him for taking advantage of her.

She hated him for telling everyone about it.

She hated him for being a Slytherin.

She hated him more for being a Malfoy.

But most of all, she hated that he was too drunk that night to remember a thing.

Rose dug deep into her pocket and pulled out the parcel. She quickly unwrapped it and opened the first vial. She put it to her lips and tipped it back, savouring the taste of cherries on her tongue. She liked being depressed. It was such a beautiful state of numbness. She liked the emptiness, the detachment. She marvelled in its melancholy sadness.

Her eyes caught two figures walking many meters in front of her. Imperia Zabini and Malfoy. Rose frowned and pulled out a second bottle.

Perhaps depression was not such a beautiful thing after all...

**AN: It's here! Gosh, I'm on a roll tonight! So, you now have the full story of the Rose/Scorpius fiasco... or do you? Haha, I take great pleasure in saying - "That remains to be seen!"**

**So, Rosie is depressed. Her mum doesn't know. Heck, she even sort of enjoys it. It's really not healthy, her obsession with the 'numbness'. What will it lead to? **

**Please review! **

**Kai xxx**

**(Violent Deliverance Ch 7 coming soon!)**


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